Creating your own language

The only thing I can remembering loving as long as storytelling, is language. I decided, aged eight, I wanted to teach myself ancient Greek. That worked out as well as you might expect, but the love affair of learning how different people communicate hasn’t dimmed.

To me, language is everything. Of course I’d say that, I’m a writer. But it goes deeper than this. I’m obsessed with how people use language, from a personal to a global perspective. The way a person, or a people, use language can tell you a huge amount about their background. For example, when I went to university in the north of England, I stuck out like a sore thumb. Not only did I say all the words with a long ‘a’ (‘grarss’ for ‘grass’) but I was forever asking for people to explain local idioms and slang. On a wider scale, I find it endlessly fascinating how language evolves over time, how it breeds and even dies off, the political and social ramifications that both create these evolutions and are effects of them. Language can truly tell history.

As a fantasy writer, therefore, creating a language is powerful tool. When discussing this on Instagram recently, a few people mentioned that it was too difficult, or that they didn’t have enough of a grasp on foreign languages to tackle such a big task.

Yes, creating a whole language from scratch is…mind-blowing. Even the most accomplished linguists would probably balk at the task. But for the necessity of a novel, you don’t need to go this far. After all (I assume) you’re not writing the entire novel in your new language. A few well-placed, well-thought-out words and phrases can go so far in bringing a world to life by adding new depth.

In my current WIP, Winter’s Fire, this is what I’ve attempted. Aynmahri, the native tongue of one of my MC’s, is splattered throughout the text. But there aren’t any full conversations. The words are used when English (or ‘Dracman’) doesn’t have an equivalent. My key aim was to make Aisa’s people clearly distinct from the rest of the population in the reader’s head, whilst using the language as a reflection of Aisa herself.

In my new WIP, which I’m just naming after the main character at the moment – Merla – I’m currently creating two languages. These will be more prevalent in the text as they are the basis for two very different, opposing, cultures.

One way you might already be making up a new language is by just changing the way your characters refer to the world around them. Creating new idioms, modifying English words…this is all language building.

What do you want your language to convey?

I think this is the first question you need to ask yourself, like you might do any element of your book: what is the language’s purpose? Reasons your story could benefit from a new language might be:

You want to put your reader in mind of an existing culture. Many of the towns in the Five Provinces have French and Italian sounding names…there’s a reason I did this.
You want the reader to recognise two (or more) opposing sides. Like in Merla, the two languages will provide a distinct barrier, geographically, politically, even magically.
You want to create a fully rounded culture, or show a person or group of people as being different to the main culture (be very careful with this – see the section at the end!)
You want to emphasise certain aspects of a culture. Language can tell a culture’s story – the invasions (physical and cultural), the fashions, the environmental changes, the political landscape. You can use language to emphasise one of these elements important to your story. I’d only recommend one element otherwise you’ll end up losing yourself and possibly your reader, too!

Find your base

Is your world based on a specific culture? When you imagine the architecture, does it remind you of ancient Rome, or Mayan temples? In Merla, some of the action is based in aland that is like Cornwall on the south-western tip of England. Using language to reflect your setting is massively powerful. I’m quite sure that if Merla starts spurting out Italian whilst gazing off the rocky cliffs into a turbulent, stormy sea full of pirates and smugglers, the reader might be confused. The same goes for the opposite. Somehow Cornish in the middle of the Colosseum just wouldn’t feel…right.

Unless, of course, you’re making a point about an invasion. In which case, fantastic use of language!

Finding a base language off of which to work is also a practical choice. You already have the sounds and grammar in place to help you navigate.

Of course, you don’t need to base your language off of anything. I did this with Aynmahri. The language first came about through forming Aisa’s own name. Aisa is the main person using the language in the novel, and I wanted it to be, in some way, an extension of her personality. It’s a low, steady language that has lots of sibilance, but some brutal edges. Since sound was my main objective, I developed this first. (Quite literally by sitting in my study making sounds until something ‘sounded right’. Thankfully me and my partner have been together for many years and he thought nothing of it). You can see the patterns here:

ess (home)
ras (man or father)
Y-sahnal (The Great Forest)
Ta’ful (Cliff Face – the name of Aisa’s town)
itzbii (outsiders)
behiisa (town leader)

After I had developed the sound, I then turned to the culture of Aisa’s people and, of course, grammar.

What elements have affected the language?

Firstly, what elements can affect the language you’re creating? The list is endless, but here are some examples:

Societal structure – who is at the top and who is at the bottom? Or is there total equality? Perhaps the society you’re writing doesn’t recognise gender – how would this reflect in the language? I’m betting that there wouldn’t be ‘he’ or ‘she’ but a neutral pronoun. In Aynmahri, there’s isn’t a feminine equivalent of behiisa as only men can lead.
Dominant culture. A dominant culture doesn’t need to be an invading force, but just a culture that is bigger than life. Think America in the late 20th century. Even the French – who are extremely protective of their language (and so would I be) – couldn’t fight off the invasion of ‘le hamburger’. Words from a dominant culture will seep into any language through whatever means and provide really interesting variations.
History. Was your culture invaded 1,000 years ago? Perhaps they’ve now overthrown their leaders and are trying reinstate their native tongue – how would this affect the language? They might not have vocabulary for modern concepts (Welsh and Cornish are great examples of this). Or perhaps, the two cultures infused and you have a melting pot of language (like English).
Environment. Language is a product of its environment, so think carefully about how the environment affects the people inhabiting the world (climate, terrain, population, farming, settlements, flora and fauna), and how they would then communicate this outwardly (this is just as important when writing, and not just in using/creating your new language).
Values. What do the speakers hold dear, what do they condemn, and what is taboo? Like the environment, this is especially helpful when creating idioms (or sayings), and thinking up important vocabulary. A society that isn’t prudish about sex, might not actually have as many terms to refer to it (the birds and the bees!), as no one is coy about referring to it as such.

Remember – you don’t need to include all these things. Just like world-building, you can fall down into an endless abyss of language building. Think what’s important to your characters, to your story and to the world/culture you have built, and use this as your starting point.

Boring but necessary…grammar

Even the simplest of languages has grammar. Without it, there’d be no common rules to stick to and we’d struggle to understand each other. So yes, sorry, you’re going to have to get some grammar rules in place.

This is where basing your language off of an existing one helps. Those rules will be in place, and we live in the glorious age of the internet where you can find those rules out with a quick search. We’ve all had different levels of grammarly education (the era I was taught in, it was non-existent *sigh*), so here are some basics you might want to think about:

Verbs, nouns and adjectives are your building blocks. Verbs are ‘doing words’ and, in English, they’re found in the dictionary preceded with ‘to’ – to walk; to be; to summon – and this standard form is called ‘the infinitive’. Nouns are names – table, road, cat. Adjectives describe nouns – pretty, black, fire-breathing. Put together you can express quite a lot – ‘to walk the pretty desert’, ‘to be an ugly toad’, ‘to summon fire-breathing cats’.
Conjugation. Now the fun starts! Conjugation refers to when verbs are changed from their infinitive form, often in relation to the person/being who is doing the action, the time they’re doing at (present, past etc), the mood (yes, really), and the quantity of people/beings taking part. Different languages have different variations of these. Some (Finnish, I’m looking at you) are just…wow. The number of conjugations available is mind-boggling, meaning a person can express themselves through very few words. English, for example, doesn’t actually have many different conjugations in the present tense. Whether I’m referring to me or you, the word ‘walk’ stays the same: ‘I walk’ vs ‘you walk’. Therefore, we have to say ‘I’ or ‘you’ in the sentence, otherwise it’s totally unclear who is walking. In Italian, on the other hand, the verb changes and therefore pronouns (I, you etc) are often dropped as it’s clear who is walking: ‘cammino’ (I) or ‘cammini’ (you). The same goes for the past tense: ‘I walked’ vs ‘you walked’. But in Italian it’s ‘camminavo’ vs ‘camminavi’ (shout out to my Italian sister-in-law for grammar checking me here!). Some languages take it further, by distinguishing between male and female ‘doers’, whether there are two, three, or more ‘doers’ (and their gender!), if the ‘doer’ is expressing doubt…the list could be utterly endless. Of course, how far you take this is in your own language building is up to you but it’s something to keep in mind. If you ignore conjugation entirely, the school children of the world may well celebrate (no more verb tables!), but your sentences will naturally get longer and possibly more confusing because of it.
Plurals – a nice easy one. Most nouns vary when you are referring to more than one of them. Not all, but most (although I will always refer to multiple deer as deers, because it makes them sound like little old ladies). In Aynmahri, for example, most words are made plural by adding an ‘-a’ (ess – essa) unless they already end in an ‘-a’, in which case it becomes ‘-ii’ (itzba – itzbii). Think how you could expand on this – could you have multiple plural endings for two, three, four etc? Perhaps this would be a nice touch to a particularly merchant-based culture, where perhaps precision counting helps.
Genders. English, for all it’s idiosyncrasies and just plain idiocies, has something going for it: ‘the’ remains ‘the’. However in a lot of languages, this isn’t the case. Inanimate objects have been bestowed with genders (e.g. ‘la maison’, which has always stuck with me after I was the centre of a group of french friends falling about in laughter after I referred to ‘le maison’. Apparently the thought of a masculine house was hilarious). Think how you could use this to great effect in your language, though. Perhaps all nouns have both female and male forms, or maybe there are more than two genders (like German, which has the neuter gender, too)?
Agreeable adjectives. Of course following on from this, is the fact that your adjectives must agree with the nouns they’re describing. For English speakers this is another crushing blow. Not only do you need to remember the gender of an object, but you need to remember the correct form of the adjective to describe it. In French, this is often solved by stuffing an ‘-e’ on the end: grand (male) vs ‘grande’ (female). This also goes for plurals (male and female!), so bear in mind how your adjectives compliment your nouns. Or forgo gender completely (just thinking of the school children again).

As with all these areas, don’t get too bogged down in it, they’re just things to keep in mind. When you’re looking at grammar, refer back to the other areas we’ve discussed and think how the culture you’re describing has come about. Perhaps their grammar is super simple because they live in the middle of a host of trading nations and language has become simplified so that everyone can understand one another easily. Perhaps they live in a strict, rule bound society where order is everything – how would this affect the grammar? Maybe they’ve been invaded so many times that their grammar rules are all over the place from so many influences.

Be respectful

Language is a powerful tool. Wield it with care.

This should go without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway, because it’s really important: be respectful of other languages and the people who are speaking them, whether they’re made up or not. As I’ve already said, language and culture are joined at the hip. The language someone uses, is theirs to use and not yours to co-opt. Our language is a part of our heritage and history, and has layers far beyond a simple means to communicate. It is strongly connected with people’s identity. That isn’t to say you can’t find inspiration from another language, but be respectful with how you use it and how you portray the people using it.

It should not simply be a tool to make a character seem ‘exotic’ or a substitute for a personality. What you don’t want to do is to reduce a people to one stereotype (the ‘Eskimos have 50 words for snow’ myth comes to mind. And where to even begin with that statement…). Make sure the people speaking your language are also rounded characters. That they use their language in the same, individual ways that your other characters are using the main language. Perhaps you’ll have one character who swears in their language a lot, but another who wouldn’t dare.

If you’re unsure whether you’re doing a good job on this (even the teeniest, tiniest bit unsure) ask for help from sensitivity readers. And take their advice on board.

Exercises

The people of your region never saw a tree until 50 years previously when invaders brought them over. How would they describe them, and how might a word for ‘tree’ evolve out of this?
Think up an idiom for a world that is battered by city-destroying storms.
What effect could a highly matriarchal society have on a language?
Look up the etymology of your three favourite words in your native language. What light does it shed on your history?

How do you build your languages? How in depth do you go and what would your top tip be?